Moments in Between
by ForgottenWhispers
Summary: Aka: What happened when they weren't fighting for their lives. What happened on the road and other little moments of this groups life. Centred around Alim the mage.
1. Chapter 1

Moments in between

(Aka: What happened when they weren't fighting for their lives.)

Disclaimer: Do not own Dragon Age, nor any of their lovely characters…but Alim is mine…..sort of.

Summary: One shots that make up a whole. Slices of life, in between the killing, questing, healing, killing….etc. Some things seem further than they really are. Bit of a warning, but there will be slash later as Alim hooked up with Zevran…..my poor, sweet, innocent elf.

R&R, give me a shout, requests for parts (i.e: meeting the Dalish/Dwarves). Enjoy.

The group were on their way back to the camp site, led by the younger of the two grey wardens, who was happily enthusing to Wynne about the staff he had seen in the Wonders of Thedas. His eyes were bright, light blue sparkling as he described the item, his starlight hair flitting as he would turn to speak with her, then look around at their surroundings, voice petering out as his attention was diverted, then returned to his conversation.

The group was used to the bundle of energy that was the elf mage, from his curiosity and unshakeable belief in helping those who needed it, to his almost frightening habit of forgetting that he was a mage, and not a scout, and running ahead to explore the area, often times finding trouble. Fortunately, the crow seemed quite attached to the other elf and was often not far behind him, ensuring that the young elf did not bite off more than he could chew, though he could not always do so, the dragon incident was a perfect example and one that often had both Alistair and Wynne checking to see that the young mage was indeed still alive and breathing, as he slept in the tent.

They were greeted at the entrance by Shaka, who almost bowled Alim over as he licked his face. Alim laughed, pushing the big dog off of him, petting him as he stood and hurried into the camp, making a beeline to Leliana. The bard lowered her instrument when she saw the other approach, giving him a small smile. "Leliana, look what I found in the forest." He held out a flower, grinning as she took it, thanking him for the gift. He left her with her gift to go rummage through the large back pack situated by the fire. He knelt down, almost disappearing into it as he started pulling items out, grumbling at the weight of the chainmail, the items being chucked over his shoulder as he deemed it not important; Wynne was silently thankful that the other mage was careful with the potions, salves and enchantments, carefully placing them next to him as he carried on hunting through.

"Alistair, do you still want this sword?"

Alistair looked up from where he was tending the fire, giving the other a grin and shook his head. "No, it's chipped." "Kay." Alim called back, putting the sword into the pile on his left. By the time he returned everything else back into the backpack, there lay two swords, three daggers, a full set of studded leather armour, five ice salves and two minor enchantments. Alim rushed over to the merchant dwarf and his son, selling the items and bartering to raise prices. The rest of the group listened as the two finally agreed on prices.

The elf returned, money pouch jingling on his hip as he sat down between Alistair and Zevran, accepting the bowl of broth that Leliana handed him. He took a few bites of the soup then stirred his spoon through it, staring at it as if it held all the answers to the world's problems. In a rare moment of camaraderie, the crow and the former templar's gazes met, both wondering what had brought the unusual bout of silence from the elf. "Why do you frown so, it does not become one of your unique looks." Alim blushed at Zevran's tease tinged question, a timid smile tugging at his lips, he sighs, "I'm a few sovereign short." He gave a huff, "We're going to Denerim soon and I wanted to get that staff." Alistair frowned, "Which one was that?" Alim gave him a light glare. "The dragonbone one, with the ice enhancements…" Wynne chuckled, " Do not worry, if you are meant to have it, then you will." Alistair gave the elf a 'there you have it' look, but Zevran was grinning slyly, "But that does not mean we cannot turn it in our favour." He opened his satchel and handed over some precious stones he had found along their travels, Alim brightened, hugging Zevran and pocketing the diamonds and gems, "Wait till we arrive in Denerim, I will talk with the shopkeeper, we'll get a better price." Alim nodded, pleased, Alistair rolled his eyes and dug in his backpack pulling out spare daggers and a training shield, Leliana watched in amusement, adding a few rings to the mix when the others looked her way, gaining beaming smile from the young mage. Alim thanked each of them, taking a few mouthfuls of the soup, feeling a lot happier. Alistair noticed the wicked look on Zevran's face moments before he pounced, "Of course, I expect to see you in my tent in a collar and nothing else."

Leliana narrowly dodged the projectile soup.

Zevran wasn't quite as lucky, four legs were faster than two.

xxx

I pretty much sold **everything** to get that staff, Alistair's new sword was put on the backburner the moment I laid eyes upon it. Grin.


	2. Chapter 2

Moments in between

(Aka: What happened when they weren't fighting for their lives.)

Disclaimer: Do not own Dragon Age, nor any of their lovely characters…but Alim is mine…..sort of.

Summary: One shots that make up a whole. Slices of life, in between the killing, questing, healing, killing….etc. Some things seem further than they really are. Bit of a warning, but there will be slash later as Alim hooked up with Zevran…..my poor, sweet, innocent elf.

R&R, give me a shout, requests for parts (i.e: meeting the Dalish/Dwarves). Enjoy.

Wynne gave a sigh, one echoed by Alistair as they trudged through yet another forest, accompanied by sullen grumbles from the usually upbeat elf mage, apparently they had finally found the storm cloud for this little ray of sunshine.

"I hate it."

The mage scuffed the ground with his boots, glaring at the earth as if it was to blame for the current situation. The others walked on, sharing glances, "It's too tight…..and it's furry…." Alistair gave Wynne a puzzled look, she just shook her head, glancing back at the younger mage, "And…..and it's too open." Alistair turned round, looking the other over, "It is not." Alim glared, the look not being very effective as his pale skin was steadily pinking around the ears, he raised his hands to rub at this bare arms, "Why can't I wear my other robe, I like that one." Wynne stopped, turning and moving to stand before the younger, her stern face coming to the fore. "Firstly, your other robe is in desperate need of mending, secondly, you've had a bit of a growth spurt and it's looking a bit small and thirdly it gives better protection than the old one." Alim was silent, but his dislike for the outfit had not lessened, the Alistair and Zevran shared a look, taking a small step back as the two mages faced off.

"It's itchy."

"I've got a salve."

"It's too heavy."

"You'll get used to it."

"I look like a ruffian."

"You're less likely to be robbed."

"It's got fur."

"So has Shaka."

"He's alive."

"So was this at one point."

"It's gaudy."

"You'll stick out."

"Then I'm more likely to be shot."

"It's better padded."

Alim huffed, eyes shifting to the left, hands clenching then moving to slide sullenly into side pockets. His hands ran past his hips and he growled.

"It has no pockets!"

Wynne chuckled, "You have pouches."

Alistair stepped forward, halting any further argument. He slung an arm round slim shoulders, feeling the shift as Alim lowered under the weight. "I think it looks pretty good, besides, it's not the clothes that make you." Alim didn't look particularly impressed with this little pearl of wisdom. Zevran jumped in to the rescue.

"Dear warden, I believe I see some elfroot." Alim spun to face the other elf, happily following him as he led the younger elf to a half hidden patch. Wynne smiled at the young mage's short attention span, shaking her head. Alistair watched the two elves leave, quirking an eyebrow at the cheerful chatter floating across from the direction they had disappeared into.

"He passed the Harrowing? How'd he survive training?" The words were layered in humour, the gentle mocking of a friend. Wynne smiled, snorting. "Perhaps standards are dropping."

"Zevran! Don't move that!"

They heard the violent rustling and snapping of breaking foliage.

"My dear warden, it seems like your belt is caught on the root." The amusement in the crow's voice was as apparent as Alim's frustration.

"I hate this robe!"

Xxx

I really hated that robe…..and it looked ridiculous on my little elf….wrong colour. Grin.


End file.
